


Whomsoever Preys

by Hexes



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Drabble, Hannibal isn't as subtle as he thinks he is, Implied Cannibalism, Implied Stalking, M/M, Manipulative Behavior, Scene Extension, Sick Will, Will suspects, character investigation, implied blood play, implied dub-con, no beta we die like men, season one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-09 00:55:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20986142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hexes/pseuds/Hexes
Summary: Hannibal asks Will who prays for them when they sleep. Will is suspicious of him.S1:E5; I was intrigued by the way Hannibal said what he did and how Will reacted to it.





	Whomsoever Preys

Hannibal's hands are braced against the railing, wide and delicate, the red in his silk tie shining like the light of a distant lighthouse. He leans forward, observing his charge, taking in the rumpled shirt, the shadows beneath the younger man's beautiful eyes. His hair looks like a riot, his fingers tapping absently at his coffee cup.

"Who prays over us when we sleep?" His rough smooth timbre drifts across Will's mind like a benevolent breeze, lifting the sails of a becalmed galley. Will blinks in response, his thoughts a-jumble. He thinks vaguely of the other night, wandering a lonely road in the night, the moon obscured, his mind adrift. The only protection with him is Winston, his thin tee-shirt doing little to save him from the biting wind, the boxers less still. 

Will turns his head to dash a cutting look along Hannibal's hands and face. He catches the other man's gaze, and his breath leaves him in a rush. The man's eye glitter, dark and heady, like the feathers of the wendigo, his even, deep breathing sighs like the ocean and Will can't look away. 

Those hands. They haunt him. He thinks that, perhaps, he's felt those hands upon him, gentling him, guiding him, sweeping down his back, clutching his hip, whispering through his hair. Tucking a curl behind his ear, running a thumb over his lips, a single bead of blood anointing them. 

Those eyes.  _ Hannibal's _ eyes boring into him, glistening in the dark night like coagulating blood creeping across a hardwood floor.  _ His _ hardwood floor. Watching ravenously as Will teeters at the edge of the bed, like a precious heirloom, shaken toward a ledge during an earthquake. Devouring him, sweat-soaked and gasping as he rises unsteadily from his nest. 

Will blinks, looks away, shakes his head. He can't have felt those hands, that gaze. Hannibal wouldn't have come to his house at night, wouldn't have coaxed him out of bed. Wouldn't… do anything like that. Will clears his throat, the phantom feeling of fingertips skating down his spine, curling around the curve of his ass, causing him to blush delicately. He wonders if, perhaps, Hannibal hadn't meant to say "preys". 

**Author's Note:**

> Hugh Dancy is a fabulous actor, as is Mads Mikkelsen. I was curious about that chary little look Will gave Hannibal. 
> 
> Anyway, I'll reproof later. Health, wealth and happiness, y'all.


End file.
